Homecoming
by parakeet17
Summary: Who needs music?" he asked and pulled me up with one arm, slipping the corsage on my wrist with another. It didn't matter that I was sick and he should've been at the dance, everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect.


**A/N: Yeah, so this is the oneshot that I was talking about in Lyrics to My Life. It's another Nilly, because they are the cutest thing to happen to fanfiction in a long time! Anyways, I thought of this while writing my other oneshot, so yeah. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, me no ownie. **

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

"I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, and did I mention that I hate this?" I said sarcastically.

"Lilly, honey, it isn't too bad," my mom insisted. Yeah, well when's the last time she had to miss out on a school dance because she was sick?

I groaned. "Mom, all of my friends are over at the homecoming dance! It's the first dance of my senior year and I'm missing it! How messed up is that?"

My mom rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that not _every_ one of your friends is over at the dance, Lilly. I think you're just exaggerating."

I reached over and grabbed another tissue before sneezing in to it. "Mom," I put the tissue in the bag with all the others and pumped a squirt of hand sanitizer in to the palms of my hands, "Miley's dancing the night away with Joe as her date and Oliver took Saint Sarah. Okay, so Kevin isn't at the dance, but that's because he's helping his dad with business stuff over in Australia. Even Nick, my boyfriend, went to the dance, figuring that he'll just find someone to dance with."

My mom was at a loss for words. I was right and we both knew it. "Just . . . pop in your favorite movie and I'll make you some chicken noodle soup, okay?" she offered.

I sneezed into another tissue again before smiling. "Thank you." I put The Peter Pan in the player and pushed play. Yeah, because this is _so_ much better than homecoming.

Not.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I've been snacking on pretzels at this table since I walked through the door half an hour ago. Sure, girls have asked me if I wanted to dance, but I politely turned them down. Truth is, I was planning on asking Lilly to the dance, but then she got sick, so I decided not to in case she got all offended.

I keep glancing at the door, hoping that she'll miraculously show up in some stunning dress and we'll dance even after the party's over. But let's face it, she's as sick as a dog and I'm . . . still sitting here when I should be with Lilly. With my girlfriend while she misses out on something she really wants to do. Wow, am I the worst boyfriend ever or what?

Standing up and tossing my plate of pretzels in to the trash can, I walked out in to the cool autumn air. Her house isn't too far from here and I'm sure it'll only take me a few minutes to get over there. So, without telling anyone, I started sprinting in the direction of Lilly's house, hoping I'll just get one more chance to dance with her.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!" I was chanting along with the movie, as if my screaming would help Tinkerbell come back to life. God, I must have looked like one of those girls who just got dumped and is wasting away a perfectly good night in front of the television, scarfing down a whole tub of ice cream. But hey, for your information, it was a _pint_ of ice cream, not a gallon.

I stopped shouting long enough to blow my nose and squirt some more disinfectant on my hands. I took a sip of my orange juice and mixed my soup around with a spoon. As much as I love this movie, I can't help but wish I was at the dance with Nick.

I was slurping my soup and watching Peter battle with Captain Hook when I heard a tapping noise coming from my window and Nick climbed through, clearly out of breath. He was still decked out in his tux and fancy shoes while his hair, which looked as if it had been combed beck before, was back in its curly style.

"Nick? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at the dance? And did you run here? Here, sit down." I slid my tray full of food forward and pulled my blankets off of me, revealing an old pair of sweat pants with a matching tank top.

He smirked. "What's with the twenty questions?"

I laughed. "Sorry. But really, what are you doing here?" Nick reached in to the interior pocket of his coat and pulled out a small plastic container and held it out in front of him. "What's that?"

"This," he opened the container, revealing a wristband full of small blue flowers, "is your corsage."

I looked up at him. Did he just say what I think he just said? "What?"

"You know, the little flowery things that guys get girl when they go to a dance with them? Yeah, this is it. And it's yours."

"That's mine? But . . . why? I thought you were at the dance. Didn't anyone want to dance with you?" I was confused.

He sat down on my bed and I did, too. "Yes, people did come up and ask me if I wanted to dance, but I realized that I only wanted to dance with you. And then I realized how bad of a boyfriend must be if I left you here all by yourself when you were sick and went off to the dance without you."

"So you ran here?"

"Pretty much," he stated and I slapped him. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Nick! It's practically a mile and a half from the school to my house! And you ran here! Why didn't you just ask Joe to take five minutes out of his night to drive you over here? What if something had happened to you?!" I stood up and began pacing around in my room.

Nick smiled at me at tried not to laugh at my actions. "Aw, you were worried about me. That was sweet of you," he grinned, watching me flush. He did that on purpose, he knows how I can't accept a compliment.

"Well, how could I not worry about you? You ran here, without telling anyone, in freezing weather! And what if something had happened to you, what would you have done?" I turned his little compliment into a scolding session.

"I probably would have called you. No, wait, you're already sick and I wouldn't want to freak you out, so I'd probably call Miley or Joe."

"And what if they didn't hear their phones over the loud music?"

"Then I'd call my mom."

"And what if she was out at the grocery store with Frankie and her cell phone was turned off?"

"Fine," he held up his hands like he was under arrest. "It wasn't a smart idea and I won't do it again if it makes you so unhappy." He smirked at me again. "Although it is kind of funny to watch you get all worked up about nothing."

"It isn't about nothing!" I sighed. I might as well drop the subject and continue watching the movie. Laying down on my bed and pulling the covers over me once again, I turned my attention back to the television.

"Lilly?" Nick said once the credits started rolling. I stopped the movie and looked over at him.

"Yeah?"

"You never let me put the corsage on you."

"Does it really matter? I mean, yes, it's a really nice corsage and I like it a lot, but we're not at the homecoming dance and I didn't even get you anything," I explained.

He sat up and looked excited over something. I'm not exactly sure what there is to be excited about. We're just sitting in my room with me blowing my nose every five minutes. "So? Since you couldn't come to the dance, I'll bring the dance to you."

My eyebrows knitted together. I was confused for the second time that night. "Huh?"

Nick got up from his place on the bed beside me and walked around to my side and got down on one knee, holding the corsage in front of him, offering it to me. "Lilly, will you dance with me?"

I laughed and threw back the covers again to face him properly. "Nick, have you seen me? I'm a complete mess! I'm wearing my pajamas, my nose is red from blowing it and sneezing all day, I have a fever, my hair is so knotted it could strangle a fly, and to top it off, we don't have any music."

"Who needs music?" he asked, pulling me up with one hand and slipping the corsage on my wrist with another. I smiled at his gesture and wrapped my arms around his neck while his coiled around my waist. He began to sway slightly, moving me along with him.

I heard a creaking noise coming from somewhere over by my bedroom door and knew that my mom was standing right outside, peering through some small crack or opening, trying her hardest to get a picture of us. At first I felt awkward. Not because I was dressed like some homeless person while dancing with my incredibly cute and put-together boyfriend in the middle of my room at night, but more because I was dressed like a homeless person while dancing with my incredibly cute and put-together boyfriend in the middle of my room at night _while my mom was standing right outside my door_. Probably within fifteen feet of us. Hello, can this get any weirder?

Nick bent over and placed his head right by my shoulder, which is a pretty long stretch, considering he's practically a whole head taller than me. "Pretend it's just the two of us, like she isn't even here," he whispered and put his head back to where it was before.

I smiled, trying to listen to his advice and just go with the flow. But how could my boyfriend be okay with the fact that my mom was watching our every move while I wasn't? Isn't that just a little bit odd?

After five minutes of even more awkward silences and shrugged-off creaking noises, I couldn't stand it anymore. "Mom, could you please just take a picture and get back to whatever soap opera you're supposed to be watching?" I begged, finally facing her.

She lowered the camera down and held it at her waist, obviously disappointed that she wasn't secret agent material. "You mean you knew I was there the whole time?"

"Pretty much. Hey, if you want some advice, go around the squeaky step next time instead of actually stepping on it," I offered after seeing her sad expression.

She smiled, still sad that she hadn't gotten the snapshot she was looking for, but it was a smile none the less. "Well, I'll stop making you two feel uncomfortable and get back to watching my soap opera." She gave us a little wave and we gave an even tinier wave back to her. See, I was totally right about the whole soap opera thing.

"Feel better now that you're mom is gone?" Nick asked the second he heard the noise of the television coming from downstairs.

I grinned. "Much. It's not like I don't love my mom or anything, it's just that . . . you know, it was just us two. No one else. And she was watching us. How would you feel if your mom was watching us dance together?"

He laughed. "That would be a bit creepy. But having your dad watch us would be even creepier."

I smiled at the truth in that. I loved my dad and Nick didn't have a problem with him, it's just that he was one of those stereotypical overprotective kind of dads that watched their daughter's boyfriend like a hawk. Even if Nick did something that seemed too polite, he would question him about it. Which is weird, considering he's totally in to the whole chivalry thing.

I heard a beeping noise from downstairs, probably the microwave. My thoughts were confirmed a few seconds later when I heard my mom's footsteps and a door opening, plus the familiar and comforting scent of popcorn with the movie theater butter. Yum.

"So . . . are you mad that I went to the dance and left you behind?" Nick asked after a while. It was almost painfully obvious how guilty he felt about it.

I rolled my eyes. It was great that he cared, but this was a bit too much. "Nick, you came back. And look, now I'm dancing with you in the middle of my room, wearing the corsage and everything. I'm happy and you should be, too."

"But I still left. And I come back and you're yelling along with some movie, slurping your soup and disinfecting yourself every ten minutes," he said. And, as if on cue, I turned my head away and snatched a tissue before sneezing in to it less than five seconds later. Another pump of hand sanitizer.

"See?!" he exclaimed.

"Nick, I have a _cold_. Those usually make people have to constantly blow their noses, sneeze, get watery eyes, you know, stuff like that. The whole package. And the movie thing, I'm a bit delusional right now and I was really sad for Tinkerbell and Peter. Plus, this chicken noodle soup is amazing and I was just looking for more of the little chicken pieces that feel compelled to hide away at the bottom of the bowl where no one can get to them." I was trying to make him feel better. I really didn't care that he wanted to go have a good time and I was stuck here. Well, I didn't like that I was stuck here, but I thought he would have fun, so I was okay with him going. Get my point? Or am I just talking to myself again?

"If you say so . . ." he drifted off in to his own thoughts. His eyes flickered around the room, stopping on something. "Hey, what's that?"

We were still dancing with each other and he had to turn slightly so I could see. His arm was outstretched towards a bulletin board above my bed. "You mean my little picture collage of me and my friends? You've seen that before."

"No, no, not that. I meant the one next to it. I don't remember seeing that one before," he told me, resting his chin on the top of my head. Yeah, that's how much taller he is than me.

Looking more closely, I could see that his arm was pointing more towards the smaller board just beside it. "Oh, that." I could feel my face flushing and the tips of my ears were burning, meaning that they were red, meaning that I was embarrassed. "That's, um, a ton of pictures of you and me," I finally managed to spit out in a quiet voice.

Nick stood there, admiring the pictures from far away, apparently not wanting to stop dancing. "It's nice. I really like it. A lot."

"It's nothing, really. I was just bored one afternoon and found a ton of pictures, so I put them all together." I paused for yet another sneeze. "It's nice to know that you like it so much. I'm just having trouble deciding which one is my favorite. It's either the one with the look on your face when I dumped the bucket full of freezing cold water over your head or the one where Joe said that really funny joke and you nearly spit your drink out because you were laughing so hard. It's a tough choice." I laughed when it was finally his turn to start blushing.

To hide his blushing face, he changed the subject. "Lilly, you do realize that we've been dancing together for nearly ten minutes now, right? And to think that you were concerned that we don't have any music. You should never doubt Nick Jonas, miss Lilly Truscott. Shouldn't you know that by now?" he joked.

I smiled to myself, just now noticing that it had actually been quite a long time since we first asked me to dance. "I'm still dressed like some sort of zombie and my hair is probably so bad that people would run away just at the sight of it. I still can't believe you ditched the dance to come see my in all my pajama glory."

I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes. Everything was just so peaceful and . . . perfect. I've never believed in the word before, but this just proves me wrong. "Nick, this is going to sound so utterly cliché that it's almost sickening. You know, it'll be pretty cheesy and maybe you don't want to hear it. No, maybe I just won't say it at all. You probably won't really ca-"

His laughter cut me off. "Lilly, get on with it."

"Fine. This will sound so completely and totally cheesy, but this is absolutely perfect. You're here with me even though the first dance of the year is being held at the school, where there's nicely dressed girls whose hair looks much nicer than mine. You've put up with my rants and my stupid cold for the whole night you've been here. I just . . . thanks. For everything."

Nick grinned and looked down at me. He gently kissed the top of my head and it would have been the most absolutely perfect moment, if it weren't for one thing: the familiar flash of a camera right as it happened.

I pulled away from Nick and looked towards the door, where my mom stood, smiling triumphantly. I gave her a mock glare and felt my ears get warm again. How many times can a girl feel embarrassed in one night?

"You know, Lilly," she said, prying the door open just a bit farther, "I wouldn't have been able to do it without your little tip earlier, so thank you."

Nick was laughing and walked over to give my mom a high-five. "Good one, Mrs. Truscott!"

"Wait," I pointed an accusing finger at him. "You _knew_ she was there?"

"Don't worry, Lilly. She didn't hear your little speech or anything, she literally showed up just a few seconds ago, so I gave her something to take a picture of. Besides, that one's my new favorite," he smirked at me for probably the fifth time that night. I swear, that boy lives to drive me crazy.

"Hey, it's your funeral," I said, finally making him the confused one. "You're probably gonna get a wicked cold because of that little stunt you pulled right there. Have fun blowing your nose for the next two weeks."

"Hey, you're worth it." He smiled as he said it, making it look like he was joking, but there was something in his voice that told me he wasn't just kidding around. I bit my lip, a bad habit of mine.

"And Nick?" I added this once my mom went downstairs for, hopefully, the last time that night. "Thanks for the great homecoming dance. I loved every second of it."

"Your welcome." He smiled, clearly satisfied that he made me smile that night after feeling so bad about going to the dance without me. "So Lilly, care to dance?"

I laughed at his gesture and slipped in to the same snug position in between his arms. "I'd love to."

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

**You know, this totally wasn't going to be this fluffy. I had the idea of the whole homecoming thing planned out already, but I kept getting sidetracked as I wrote this. My distraction was a really good story on here, but in there, Nick and Lilly kinda hate each other. So I guess this became extra fluffy to fill my Nilly craving? I honestly don't know. But I do know that, with all my distractions and everything, this took me nearly four hours to write and now it's past midnight and I'm dead tired. Plus, this is probably my longest oneshot ever and I worked really hard on it, so reviews would be greatly appreciated! All you have to do is click on that little button in the lower left-hand corner and type up a few words saying how much you liked it or hated it or wished it was you dancing with Nick Jonas! Yeah, this is over three thousand words and it's a little over seven pages on Microsoft! Yay! So, please leave reviews and make my day! Thanks!**

**Peace, Love, and Nilly!**

**Parakeet17**


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